


Redirection

by Smooty



Series: 2doc Mature One-Shots [3]
Category: Gorillaz
Genre: BDSM, D/s, M/M, No actual sex, cocky!Stu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 22:07:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18748051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smooty/pseuds/Smooty
Summary: Murdoc throws a temper tantrum. 2D redirects him.





	Redirection

They had to keep it subtle since they lived with Russel and Noodle still. And no matter how much Murdoc claimed to be cleaning up his act, some things were a little beyond belief, even for the bassist. So they kept it simple, and mostly behind closed doors. Well, minus a few things.

As usual, Murdoc was storming around the house, shouting about this or that. 2D could hear it through his headphones from where he was relaxing with a spliff in his bedroom. Murdoc must be _really_ pissed, judging from the thunderous banging that had been going on for far too long. 2D sighed and ashed his joint, standing up from his bed and stretching. Someone better go deal with the bassist, and it sure wasn’t going to be Noodle or Russel. They’d learned long ago that the quickest way to get Murdoc to clam down was to let him wear himself out. 2D, on the other hand, had a few tricks up his sleeve that he was dying to try out on the older. He made sure to grab the small gift-wrapped box on his bedside table; now would be the perfect time to give his gift to Murdoc.

It didn’t take too long to find Murdoc, given the ruckus. He was in the living room, pacing back and forth and waving his hands around like a man possessed. 2D watched from the doorway for a little while, assessing the bassists with a calm gaze before clearing his throat. Murdoc’s head snapped towards him immediately.

“What?” he snapped, immediately taking a defensive stance. 2D kept his posture relaxed, but firm, standing up to his full height--a good four inches taller than Murdoc.

“Is there a problem?” he asked, resting a hand on his hips. Stu’s voice was low and steady, an exact counter to Murdoc’s pitchy one. He watched the other tense up, ready for a fight.

“Fuck off, Faceache,” Murdoc growled, restarting his pacing. “Go play around on your keyboards or somethin’.”

Two long strides and the singer was in Murdoc’s personal space, looming over him with that same blank expression. “Excuse me?” Murdoc’s blanched a bit but he held firm, glaring at 2D with venom.

“I said--”

“I heard what you said,” 2D interrupted, raising one of his hands slowly to rest on Murdoc’s shoulder, then pressing a little. “But I thought I’d give you a chance to rethink it.”

Stu noted how Murdoc went stiff underneath his hand, then relaxed like someone had pulled the plug on his anger. The bassist was still getting used to the way their relationship was now. He glanced to the side, fists still clenched, but remained silent. 2D smiled wide, but not in a pleasant way.

“Come on, you can make me lunch t’make up for it,” he ordered, letting go and turning around to walk into the kitchen. He didn’t need to look behind him to see if Murdoc was following, he knew he would be. Instead Stu made his way to the kitchen table and sat down expectantly. A few seconds later Murdoc trudged in and stood in front of the refrigerator, eyebrows furrowed slightly, but less than they had been when he was shouting up a storm.

“What’d you want?” the bassist asked lowly, still not looking at the singer. The grin on 2D’s face returned at Murdoc’s submissive behaviour. It was a little bit of a power trip, knowing he could make Murdoc do almost anything he wanted.

“I don’t really like your tone, Murdoc,” he warned, watching the other shift from foot to foot uneasily.

“Sorry Stu.” He never got tired of hearing that. Murdoc always sounded like he was choking on the word, and it’d taken them a long time to even get to the point where he _could_ say it.

“Apology accepted, pet. Why don’t we have somethin’ simple, like soup?” Despite the use of “we” 2D made no move to get up and help with the preparation, and Murdoc didn’t seem to expect him to. The bassist nodded and set about searching through the cupboards for a can, pot, and bowls.

It was quiet between them, with 2D watching Murdoc with veiled interest and Murdoc focusing solely on the task he’d been given. What a rush, having Murdoc making him food without him having to lift a finger. It was almost like back on Plastic Beach, when he’d had to depend on Murdoc making and bringing food down to his cell. Except things were _a lot_ different now, especially in terms of their power dynamic. Stu tapped his fingers against the table, a subtle reminder to Murdoc that he was still in the room despite the quiet.

Soon Murdoc was placing down two bowls of vegetable soup and two cups of water on the table before sitting down. 2D made sure to catch his eyes and give him a thankful smile before digging in. Murdoc waited a bit before starting his own bowl, watching Stu intently as he did.

“Sorry it’s just canned shit,” the bassist said after a few spoonfuls. 2D shrugged.

“You can cook me somethin’ fancy later when I’m not starvin’.” He looked to his cup, which was nearly empty. Murdoc noticed and immediately grabbed it, filling it up at the sink and dropping it back in front of the singer, all without a word. “Thank you Muds,” he sing-songed. The bassist grunted in reply, going back to glowering at his soup.

“So what’s got your knickers all bunched up?” 2D asked lightly, finishing the last of his soup. Murdoc’s face soured.

“Nothing.” Murdoc was still giving him sass, but 2D knew how to fix that. Slowly, so Murdoc could see his every move, the singer reached into his pocket and pulled out the box. It was long and thin with delicate embossed patterns around the lid. Murdoc eyed it suspiciously.

“It’s for you, if you tell me what’s got you all worked up,” the singer teased, sliding the box back and forth a little. “Don’t you want this gift I got you Muds?”

He watched the bassist struggle internally as he tried to decide. Murdoc _hated_ giving up control, even though he needed to a lot of the time. He especially hated bowing down to someone like 2D, who he considered weak. Not that the singer was a weakling, not anymore at least. The power balance had definitely shifted since Murdoc came back from prison and 2D had proven himself with The Now Now. Yes, things were much, _much different_  now.

“What is it?” Murdoc asked, going to grab the box only to have Stu pull it away.

“Ah-ah, you’ve got to tell me what you were shoutin’ about first, love.” Murdoc squirmed. 2D loved making the bassist a little bit uncomfortable in these situations. It was a kind of petty revenge, making Murdoc face his feelings even though he hated it. It was better than getting violent and coming to blows like they had done before discovering their new dynamic.

“Come on 2D…” Murdoc whined, only for 2D to yank the box back towards him with a frown.

“Murdoc,” he said, lowly, warningly. The bassist sighed and again lowered his gaze to the table.

“Sorry, I meant, uh, Stu.” The singer nodded but didn't say anything, still waiting for Murdoc to give some explanation for his earlier behaviour. He began tapping his fingers on the table again, a little more impatiently. Finally, Murdoc looked up at him.

“It was nothin’ big, jus’ somethin’ I saw on Twitter pissed me off, some people sayin’ shit about Gorillaz…” Stu edged the box a little bit closer to the bassist, and Murdoc continued. "They don't know anythin', and I'm sick of people talkin' about us like they do!"

He slid the box the final few edges until it bumped against Murdoc’s hand on the table, a silent reward. The bassist took the box and inspected it, turning it over in his hands. “Go on then, love. Open your present.”

2D leaned his chin on one hand, watching Murdoc unwrap the box and pull the lip off. He watched the bassist’s eyes go wide as he recognized the fabric and leather inside the box. “Stu…”

“Here, lemme put it on you,” he offered, taking the box back and pulling out the leather collar. It was mostly plain, with an embossed Saint Peter’s Cross in the middle. The singer held the collar up so the bassist could see the inside where the words _He’s My Collar_ were printed backwards, a surefire way to leave a lasting, but harmless mark on the bassist’s skin. And a way to remind him of who he belonged to even with the collar off. Stu felt Murdoc shiver as the leather touched his skin, calloused hands coming up to stroke against his neck when it was finally in place.

“D’you like it? You’ve been so good for me, today’s outburst aside, and I wanted to get you somethin’ special,” Stu explained. Murdoc pulled out his phone and turned the selfie camera on, inspecting himself in the screen. “Somethin’ that shows you’re mine.”

“I love it… Holy shit Stu its…” Murdoc gaped at himself before turning to Stu again, a light blush on his face. “How did you…?”

“S’not hard to guess what you like, Muds,” 2D laughed. “You’re pretty obvious.”

“Sod off,” Murdoc grumbled, still fingering the collar. Stu made a questioning noise, that same grin from before sliding over his face.

“What was that?” He watched with pleasure as Murdoc flushed a pretty pink. It was so fun, being in charge like this, and knowing Murdoc loved every second of it.

“Uh, thanks. I said thanks.” 2D stood then, quite suddenly. With Murdoc sitting down still the bassist had to crane his neck far back to make eye contact. Stu wondered what Murdoc saw when he looked at him now, white eyes, confident posture. How had the ended up here?

“Why don’t we go back to my room, and you can show me how much you like your new gift?” Stu saw the way his words clicked in Murdoc’s mind, the way he swallowed heavily against the leather. Hastily the bassist stood up as well, nodding eagerly and walking towards the door to the staircase. Stu waited until he was almost all the way there before calling out.

“Are you jus’ gonna leave all these dirty dishes?” he asked, crossing his arms. Murdoc turned back around and looked at the bowls and pot with exasperation.

“But Stu…” he started, but quickly stopped when the singer raised an eyebrow at him. Murdoc made a big show of sighing and whining as he gathered up the dishes and dumped them in the sink. 2D watched with amusement, who knew the bassist could be such a whiney child? Satisfied that the other was doing as he was told, Stu left the kitchen and headed back to his room, knowing that the second Murdoc was finished he’d be joining him. All in all, he felt pretty good at how successfully he’d ended the bassist’s little tantrum.


End file.
